Longbottom's Solution 069
by Playgirl Eugene
Summary: Because of a potion mishap, Harry and Draco landed into a hilarious situation. And to return, they had to what?


**LONGBOTTOM'S SOLUTION 069**

_Written by Playgirl Eugene_

**Author's Note :** Hey, this is my second attempt of Harry Potter fic. My first was admittedly not that good, but hey, I'm trying to fix it. So, anyway, this is a sarcastic romance/comedy genre. I hope you enjoy it, and forgive me if there's any typo or grammar errors (which will be there, I assure you) since I did the beta-reading myself. Please just tell me if you notice any mistake.

**Standard Disclaimer :** The Harry Potter series and all of the characters, including the original plot and situations, is created and owned by JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I own nothing of it and I do not earn profit of any kind from this and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. This disclaimer stands firm for the whole of the story. Furthermore, if I use any material that needs to be disclaimed, there will be individual credit where due.

**Summary :** Because of a potion mishap, Harry and Draco landed into a hilarious situation. And to return, they had to _what_?

**Rating :** M/NC - R/18

**Warning(s) :** Slash/yaoi/male x male, cussing. If any of the aforementioned warnings offends you, I suggest you turn back now. I will not appreciate anyone flaming me just because they didn't read this.

**Setting and Timeline :** Vaguely AU borrowed the original plot with modifications, characters, and faint similarities of their original relationship in the Harry Potter series.

**Character Setting :** Draco/Harry, Ron/Hermione, others undecided

**Chapter Details :** None in particular.

-- Prologue --

"_Harry, you have to have sex with Malfoy."_

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed. It was Monday morning, another day of Potion. Her own potion was finished and bottled, precise and perfect as usual. Her partner, Zabini, had been decent and cooperative despite being a little cold, so overall it had been an uneventful lesson. Snape was being his usual cankerous self, assigning each of them to a partner from a different house before glaring at them and disappearing into his office, Ron was cursing the man's existence as he mutilated the innocent flobberworms from his place beside Parkinson, Neville's cauldron was sizzling suspiciously whereas his partner looked annoyed and wary, and Harry was glaring at a smug looking Malfoy.

_Ah, this is peace._ Hermione mused sarcastically.

After five years, this scenario was getting bloody old – and annoying – fast. _For heaven's sake_, Hermione thought, _they're acting like brats. Again._

She blamed Professor Snape. Hermione was a student who rarely criticized her teachers' judgment. Of course, Umbridge and Trelawney were exceptions – but they were never qualified as proper educators anyway. But Professor Snape should have known better than to put Harry and Malfoy within ten feet radius, especially not after last year's incident.

The other professors, prefects, and heads had long given up in trying to make peace between them and would quietly leave them to their problems, as long as they stayed within the boundaries, and the student body seemed to think of it as an amusement. It was something that happened on daily basis and no one seemed to think differently about it nowadays.

Harry and Malfoy had never gotten along well and that would be the understatement of the century. It was as if they were born to hate one another, to be the other's natural enemy on first sight. It was even worse than the hatred that had lasted between the Weasleys and the Malfoys. Hermione even suspected that, excepting You-Know-Who and perhaps Peter Pettigrew, Harry hated Malfoy above all rationality. It was almost like his hatred was an obsession and so was Malfoy's affinity for provoking the resident hero.

Harry was always such a sweet, loving boy. He didn't swear – well, maybe _sometimes_, but it was Ron's stupid fault anyway – and he never badmouthed anyone, he was gentle and polite. Being who he was, Harry had many enemies; people who hated him, envious of him, and would stoop so low as to humiliate him. He was almost a saint when it concerned the people who tried to antagonize him. He did last with even the obnoxious, most despicable Dursleys, Hermione logically reasoned.

True, Harry had quite an impressive temper to start with. But it was almost unnatural, how violent his reactions that is, when it came down to Malfoy. Hermione never saw Harry reacted to anyone like he did to Malfoy, no matter how childish and irrelevant.

_Boys_, she sighed again, _and their bloody hormones._ If she hadn't known any better, she could well accuse them both of being sexually frustrated. She simply feared that Harry would faint dead if she did. Or rather, _Ron_ would.

With that, she returned to watch Hogwarts' infamous duo and their petty squabbling that took stage at Professor Snape's underground Potion classroom. She would not ask what the problem was or even who started it. It would just be the same thing all over again; Malfoy said something spiteful or insult someone – her first, most convenient guess would be Ron – to Harry and Harry would rise to take the bait.

She didn't know if Malfoy was doing it on purpose to get Harry's attention – seeing just how often he did it, she was in the right to suspect something – and why did Harry took it. Maybe Harry was venting his pent up frustration on Malfoy? But Harry never tried to initiate anything. Malfoy always looked so smug whenever Harry returned his insult and would look highly offended when Harry – occasionally – ignored him.

It was psychological. Her conclusion was simple; they were both insane and _frustrated_.

"Sod off, Malfoy. You're annoying." Harry said as he glared at Malfoy. Hermione itched to tell Harry that his height and build didn't exactly support his passion to intimidate Malfoy, but decided against it considering the situation. She gave him credit for trying.

Malfoy sneered, an expression that was at home on his face. "And then what would you do? Whatever _you_ make won't be so far off from Longbottom's anyway, so why should I waste away my 'Outstanding' for _you_?"

Harry might not show it, but Hermione had this thought that he was rather sensitive when someone commented on his potion skills; not that he was _that_ inadequate but maybe because people often mentioned how his mother excelled in that particular subject. If anything, Harry didn't take well of being compared.

"You prick!"

"Scar head!"

Yes, they definitely sounded like a pair of elementary students fighting over the last Bertie Bott's bean in the box.

"Damn ferret!" Harry stomped on his right feet, "Bloody fake Moody shouldn't have changed you back! At least, you're a little more tolerable when you can't talk!"

Malfoy's pale face turned red immediately and his smirk diminished as he snarled at Harry.

"Shut _up_!"

"No, _you_ shut up!"

"And who are you to bloody tell me what to do, Potter!"

Harry shut his eyes and averted his face in disgust, "Just because you have your _daddy dearest_ backing you up, Malfoy, don't think that you can do whatever you want!"

Malfoy did not seem to take that well. He was always more touché when someone mentioned his parents. "At least I still _have_ a father, Potty!" Malfoy saw Harry's face changed as he realized the direction that the blond haired Slytherin was going. "Yours were dead because of _you_! Well, at least now we can all see why you're so uncivilized, not that your mudblood mother could've done anything—"

And Malfoy finally crossed the invisible line; that was under the belt. Harry's eyes narrowed and the green of his irises deepened along his glare. There were always words that Harry's unnaturally green, expressive eyes were the result of the excess of magic inside him and it was possible, seeing how that colour flared up with his emotion.

"Take that back, Malfoy! Take that back right now!"

Harry's jerked his hand, letting his wand slipped from the inner fold of his sleeve onto his left hand; he was faintly aware that the whole room had stopped to watch and Snape was behind that small door leading to his private office, and he could lose all his house points when the man returned, but he couldn't a damn at the time. He was going to make that ferret take that back.

Hermione was trying to calm Harry down from the sideline, trying to reason with her best friend that Malfoy was not worth it while elbowing Ron, who was encouraging Harry to 'show the ferret who's the man', to shut it.

"Malfoy, Potter! Stop it at once!" Snape had apparently entered the room in time to see the Harry casting a stunning spell at an armed Malfoy, who jumped back and landed smoothly on his right knee to avoid the dangerously accurate and well aimed spell before shouting 'Locomotor Mortis'. Harry, like the duellist he was, managed to dodge the Malfoy's counter attack. The spell crashed against the cupboard behind him and shattering the delicately balanced glass containers.

Everything then went downhill; the voices around them were like distant rustling and everything looked like a blurred picture. One minute, they were throwing curses and spells; then Snape stepped in to stop them when the boys dropped their wands simultaneously as if they came to an agreement, and jumped at one another. With his larger frame, Draco managed to pin Harry to the ground and tried to lock his arms, but Harry's small and agile body allowed him to wriggle out of Malfoy's grasp and instead aimed a punch to Malfoy's face, which the blond haired teen managed to dodge by rolling away in time.

They rolled on the ground as they started to get physical – punching, kicking while screaming insults and profanities at one another. The boys were cheering for their respective house members, while the girls looked between them, unsure of what to do.

Snape, seeing no other option, raised his wand to bind the two when Malfoy tried to tackle Harry, who twisted around and tried to strike Malfoy instead. Malfoy missed his footing and fell forward. Out of instinct, he grabbed the nearest thing he could reach – which happened to be one momentarily off-guard Harry Potter.

Both then fell backward and only then realized, with horror in their green and grey eyes, that they were heading straight for Neville's smoking cauldron. Harry wasn't sure in the midst of his panic, but he felt Malfoy throwing his arms around him tightly and pushed his head down against his broad chest as they prepared for the impact. Harry could only hear Malfoy's speeding heartbeat and shouting, although he couldn't make out their voices.

Malfoy shifted his weight slightly midair and used his body as Harry's cushion. Both Neville and Perellin, his partner, instinctively moved away, as the two bodies crashed the cauldron over. The two wizards ended up sprawling on the dungeon's cold, hard stone floor – drenched from top to toe with Neville's orange, sharp smelling concoction.

It didn't escape Hermione, even in her panicked state, that Malfoy's body was covering Harry's smaller one in a protective manner that was not accidental.

Both Harry and Malfoy jerked and cried out in pain. White flashed behind their eyelids as extreme pain assaulted their whole bodies, like a milder version Cruciatus. They writhed in agony as their professor and classmates hovered above them with worry.

Neville and Perellin had been drained of their facial colour as they watched Snape knelt between the boys and tried to steady their trashing bodies to check their conditions. Harry, for having an unnaturally high threshold of pain, was quieter but Malfoy's reaction was almost violent. Snape shouted at a pair of Gryffindor and Slytherin to get Madame Pomfrey, who immediately ran out of the room to obey. Hermione tried to approach Harry, but Ron held her back – obviously he didn't want Hermione to go any nearer to the suspicious looking concoction.

And quite suddenly, Harry and Malfoy went limp. For a second, they had feared the worst. The Slytherins weren't fond of Potter and the Gryffindors hated Malfoy; but they never wished for _death_ to either. Snape bit down on his lower lip and the action actually drew blood; Merlin knew _what_ Longbottom made were not meant for safe consumption.

Everyone was still and silent, tense and waiting – for a minute that felt like an hour – until _finally_ the two boys had momentarily passed out began to shift with quiet groans. Immense relief washed through them; death in the classroom was definitely the last thing both party wanted despite everything else. Snape let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding all the while.

"You two imbeciles!" Snape roared, though his tone was less harsh than as usual; his worry almost had him forgot the incident that took place before. "What were you thinking? You dunderheads were bloody lucky that Longbottom didn't make something that could have wrenched your intestines or peeled off your skin!"

Neville flinched and trembled before babbling out a series of apologies. Snape rolled his eyes; though his tone was sharp, he had been a little _worried_ earlier. He was painfully aware about the fact that they could've died. A potion mishap was never something to be taken lightly; the consequences a small mistake could've been fatal. One of them was the only son of the Malfoy and the other was the wizarding world's precious boy. The wizarding world could have been thrown into an uproar and the Light Side would definitely lose the war.

Hermione sighed in relief and knelt beside Harry in concern as she tried to assist the dark haired boy. Harry slowly pushed his chest from the floor with his right hand, all the while clutching his head with his left. "Harry, are you alright—" She made a move to touch Harry's shoulder, but her hand was slapped away.

"Don't touch me, you filthy mudblood!"

The whole room gasped in surprise, and even Snape was dumbfounded at the words that escaped the usually soft-spoken Harry Potter. Hermione blinked, admittedly feeling a pang of hurt. Harry might as well tell her to go die and she wouldn't have felt half as bad. But something else bothered Hermione.

_That was _not_ Harry's accent._

Hermione opened her mouth, but a furious Ron beat her to it. His face was almost blotchy with purplish spot and he was flushing with anger to the tip of his ears. He looked ready to combust and Hermione wondered if he really would. "Take _that_ back, Harry! And I mean _now_!"

The whole class was tense now as the drama unfolded before them. The Gryffindors looked surprised and worried, but the Slytherins were amused by the turn of events. Harry Potter's temper and mood swings were _infamous_, but this was admittedly rather unexpected.

"Shut up, Weasel! My head and my back are bloody hurting and I don't need _you_ making it _fucking_ worse!" Harry groaned in pain as he pressed his right palm against his face.

"What in the bloody hell—" As if his anger evaporated in the stead of stunned confusion, Ron stared at Harry with wide eyes. His mouth opening and closing a few times, Ron could only blurt the only thing he could think of. "M-mate, I don't know what is your bloody problem but stop talking like the ferret! You're creeping me out!"

"Weasel, one more word—!"

"Malfoy, threaten him again and I swear I'll hex your bloody ball off!"

That voice snapped the tension like a potent bludger and all eyes turned to the blond haired teen who was trying to sit straight with the help of Goyle. Snape twitched; that chill climbing his spine had nothing to do with the cold air of his dungeon. It was his instinct as a spy, the one who always whispered to him whenever he sensed danger and the one he always trusted second only to his wand – one that told him that Longbottom's blasted potion actually _did_ something to the two of them.

Harry scowled and turned to Malfoy, crossing his arms before his chest and opened his mouth to retort back—but stopped short and blinked. Malfoy was also staring at Harry curiously from where he sat. It was as if it was their first time really seeing each other.

For one full minute, no one dared to talk or move as if they didn't want to upset some delicate balance of the world and destroying it. It was so silent; Hermione swore that she could hear the wind blow inside the room – which was theoretically impossible considering that they were underground.

"… Huh?"

It was Blaise Zabini who broke that tender silence. As if that one word was an _Ennervate_ incantation, both the Potter's only heir and the Malfoy's likewise, screamed – displaying impressive vocal power that made Hermione wince and involuntarily thought about how vocal they would be in bed. _Dangerous thoughts, Granger,_ Hermione mentally kicked herself, _and get your mind out of the gutter. You did _not_ just visualize sweet Harry and Malfoy in bed – sweating – panting – screaming – _okay, stop.

Screaming subsided; they simultaneously pointed their accusing fingers at one another. "Malfoy/Potter, what the hell are you doing with _my_ body, you bloody prick/scar head?!"

Sometimes, they did everything in such precise synchronization, it was scary. They spoke so quickly, that most of the students missed it. Each one of them was now watching with rapidly increasing interest and curiosity. Well, at least if they could insult one another again, they were going to be alright.

"H-Harry? Wh-what's wrong?" Ron was now completely gone. He looked from his best friend to his archenemy with bewildered face. Ron was not the brightest wizard in existence, but he was not an idiot like the rest of the population thought him to be. The two of them were acting weird; as if they had a personality-switch or something. He knew Harry could be moody but not irrational, and while Malfoy was not exactly Gryffindor material, he never looked so scared out of his wits since the fake Moody turned him into a ferret.

On the other hand, Hermione and Snape had narrowed their eyes on the two boys – suspicious and speculating.

_Now, could it be—_

Hermione's brown eyes went wide and Snape's pallor paled even more, if it was physically possible. The man turned sharply to Neville, who jumped and squeaked at the deadly tone he used.

"Longbottom, has your incompetence finally reached its limit? I told you to make a Strengthening Potion—a bloody _Strengthening Potion_! Is it so hard to hear me talk in bloody English, or is your idiocy is finally eating your brain away!"

Neville stuttered his apologies and sought refuge behind Perellin, who none too subtly tried to inch away in case Snape finally lost it and decided to hex a student against his ethic; his volatile reputation be damned.

Snape growled, muttering something under his breath about his ill-fated luck and bloody dunderheads who would be the death of him one of these days. Voldemort didn't even have to bother. Lowering his body to his knee, he carefully inspected the remnants of Neville's suspicious looking potion. "Did you put unicorn blood in it?"

Neville fidgeted and mumbled something inarticulate, causing Snape to glare at him again. Shutting his eyes tightly and squeaking, he blurted out, "I-I don't know! I just p-put something in it, b-but I'm n-not sure if it was pomegranate juice or salamander blood or unicorn—"

"You _imbecile_! You can't even tell them apart and you just _put_ it in!" Snape screamed, causing the other students to wince at his tone. He stood; his robe swishing along with his swift, curt movements. "I'm going to see the Headmaster. Granger, tell the nurse when she comes that they might be drenched with Solution 069." Snape might have been biased, but he knew which student to trust with such information. At least the Gryffindor girl was smart enough not to screw up.

"The Solution 069!" Suspicion confirmed, Hermione gasped and clasped a hand over her mouth. Her brown, expressive eyes were wide and disbelieving. Harry _really_ hated it when she did that. It never meant a good thing when she did that.

"What? What is it?" Ron, like the rest of the class – not counting a furious looking Snape and a trembling Neville who was too scared to bother – was staring at the resident know-it-all, as if expecting her to launch into a detailed, scientific explanation immediately.

"Yes, Granger." Snape's thin lips curled into a mocking sneer. "Solution 069. Bloody Longbottom! I should've resigned when he turned the bloody cough potion into—" Snape's ranting slowly faded as the made strode down the dungeon corridor, heading for the headmaster's office.

"M-Mione," Hermione turned to find Malfoy, who had his face set in this adorable expression of confusion and nervousness that used to grace another face, pinching the sleeve of her school robe and glancing around nervously. Everyone stared at the blond haired teen with an incredulous look. Ron looked like he was about an inch away from fainting there and then.

"W-what is Solution 069? W-why am I over there? _Why do I sound like Malfoy?_"

Hermione stared at the wide eyed, handsome face that belonged to the infamous Slytherin, and glanced at the supposed Boy-Who-Lived, who was standing in the middle of the room with his arms crossed – drenched in the gooey orange substance and wearing a vicious scowl on his face, but still managed to look completely adorable.

Meeting the grey, expectant stare – and fighting the urge to shudder – Hermione then spoke. "Solution 069 is originally an unregistered necromancy alchemy potion originating from German until the Ministry amended the _Potions for Untraceable Purpose_ decree back in 1788 and it became a classified potion. Other than certified Potion Masters and some department of the Ministry, Solution 069 is completely inaccessible and forbidden. The penalty ranges from a warning to a year in Azkaban, or ten, taking in the gravity of the situation."

Neville suddenly went lax and nearly toppled over if it wasn't for Dean and Seamus catching and supporting him. Hermione ignored Neville and continued.

"It's also known as the Temporary-Me-Not Potion. Essentially, this potion allows one to release the essence of one's body – it can be magic core for us magic users or sometimes even our souls – to be detached from its vessel, the physical body that contains it." Hermione recited as if she had the script right under her nose, "Because it is very dangerous and exhausting for the essence to be without a corporeal body, it will enter the nearest empty vessel of formerly living organism available for an unidentified amount of time, depending on the strength of the potion."

"Uh-huh. And… what does it do?"

Hermione glared at Ron; she couldn't believe he was that dim.

The redhead stared back. "What? I don't see where you're going honestly. Get to the point, Mione." He earned a few nod and muttering of agreement from the students who stayed to watch. Harry was staring at the ground; his eyes wide with denial. Considering that he was a decent thinker, Hermione supposed he could catch up, but was in a state of refusing to believe it himself.

Hermione rolled her eyes again, for the umpteenth time, and decided to cut the chase. "You and Malfoy were both drenched and when your essences, souls to be exact, escaped your body. They entered the nearest possible empty vessel, which happened to be the other's body."

Stunned silence met her explanation, and then indefinite chattering exploded around them.

"S-so, you mean that H-Harry and the ferret face sw-switched—" Ron choked; his expression was as horrified as Malfoy's. "Oh, Merlin. Merlin. Shit. Harry, mate, you got some seriously shitty luck."

"Gee, thanks Ron." Harry returned dryly. Harry supposed that with everything he had seen and heard ever since he entered the wizarding world, this wasn't as surprising as it would've been otherwise, even if it was a very _disgusting_ concept. He should've guessed something like this happened sooner or later, after all whichever mistress governing his fate seemed to get the kick from making him miserable.

He glanced at Malfoy – who was wearing _his_ skin – and knew that Malfoy shared his sentiment in this case. What did he do to deserve this?

"You're lucky that the two of you happened to be drenched together." Hermione said with a serious expression, earning her an incredulous look from both the blond haired and green eyed teen. She narrowed her eyes and placed a hand on her hips, "Did you realize how many inanimate vessels lying about in here? Imagine if one of you got drenched and could only enter a flobberworm. Would you rather _that_ happened?"

Harry was almost tempted to shout 'yes', but thought the better of it.

At their shocked expression, Hermione fought the urge to smack the up the head. For two supposedly smart wizards, they could be so slow.

"And, pray tell, _why_ do you suppose that this potion is classified?"

Harry nodded and nervously fisted on his robe and looked up to Hermione with a worried look on his face, biting on his lower lip. While it looked completely wrong on the Slytherin's face, Harry was so cute; Hermione had this urge to bully him all of a sudden. Maybe it was just the effect of Malfoy's face looking so vulnerable.

"S-so, how do we change back? What can we do about it? I-is there something—Hermione, _please_ tell me there's something we can do about it!" Harry said desperately. He was so pitiful; he reminded Hermione of a lost baby kneazle. He was staring with wide eyes at Hermione as if she was his lifeline.

"Usually, when someone's essence entered an inanimate vessel, someone would have to make the counter potion and extract it back again. The potion could take up a complete full moon cycle to make,"

"So we're stuck for like, _a whole bloody month_ like this?" Malfoy spat; his usual venom didn't match Harry's voice and ended up sounding like a petulant child denied of his chocolate frog.

"The next full moon is in another eleven days actually, so that makes it roughly about one and a half month." Hermione corrected blandly. Malfoy glared at her, his lips twisting into a pout.

_At least you wouldn't see Harry doing that often,_ Hermione mused. "But that wouldn't be of any use, since in the case of more than one animate vessel, the solution is… _different_."

Malfoy looked up immediately and raised an eyebrow. Harry looked even tenser, staring at Hermione with cautious eyes. "Different? How is _different_?"

"Well, Harry," Hermione sighed, not knowing how to break it to a terrified looking Har – Malfoy, whatever. She didn't know what to feel about seeing _Malfoy's_ face looking at her with hope and anticipation and – well, what she wouldn't give to see that face on another occasion. Honestly, she didn't want to do this. The conversation was not for innocent, delicate people like Harry.

"The only way for you two to return to your respective body is to—" She couldn't believe that she was saying this, during Potion class, in front of Malfoy and _Ron_, "—to engage in a coitus intercourse and resulting in the insemination of—"

"Granger, human language. _Please_." Malfoy interrupted her; his voice dripping with sarcasm as he wore an irritated look on his – Harry's, dammit – face.

Hermione glared at Malf – Harry, _whatever_. "Fine! If you want me to be crude about it, fine." She huffed and turned back to a fidgeting, nervous Harry who was still waiting for her answer and dreading something. It seemed to her that Harry had a sharp instinct when concerned his luck with troubles – and Malfoys – out of experience, she supposed.

_Smart boy, Malfoy didn't suit such a cute expression though,_ she thought with a peculiar wistfulness.

"Well, to return back," Hermione licked her suddenly dry lips, "Harry, you have to have sex with Malfoy."

There, she said it. Unambiguous, and straight to the point.

"Until your body switched back again."

_That is, Merlin knows when._

For a moment, no one said anything. Harry appeared to have some trouble processing her words, Malfoy's jaw fell adorably to the floor, and Ron turned white – she suspected it was more because she had said the 's' word more than the fact that Malfoy would have to bang Harry, or whichever way was fine.

"WHAT!"

"Hermione, language! Girls shouldn't talk like that!" came Ron's scandalized exclamation, "Use _fornicate_!"

Ron did a fine imitation of his mom by the way. He might be a good friend and a decent boyfriend really, but Ron could be such a prude… and a sexist bastard. She didn't even know he was so erudite as to know that word.

"Repeat that, Granger!" Malfoy's too green eyes – Harry's really – widened as his face paled in horrific realization. "You didn't just say that—"

"You got to climb into bed and rut with Harry? Yes, Malfoy, I did." Hermione deadpanned.

Ron floundered, "Hermione!"

"Nooo! They're gay?" Lavender moaned while flailing her hands, staring back at forth between the two boys, Parvati, and the brunette Gryffindor who appeared to be the calmest person inside the room. _That's a little irrelevant,_ Hermione inwardly frowned, but then again only Lavender could think of something so trivial and obvious, to Hermione at least, in this situation.

Parvati sighed in resignation, "The cute ones are _always_ gay."

Hermione suddenly realized that the one actually concerned, Harry, had yet to say anything. He had lowered his face, and Hermione couldn't see his expression. He was taking it unexpectedly well – or maybe not.

She took her eyes of Harry when she heard dark haired Gryffindor spluttered from where he stood beside his female Slytherin Potion partner. "B-but! Harry hated Malfoy! They always looked like they were about to hex one another into next month! Err, right?" He reflexively turned to his partner, who merely looked contemplative about the whole thing.

"I don't think that really matters. now Beside, wasn't it kind of… _obvious_?" the Slytherin girl mused out loud and Hermione had to agree with her. The Gryffindor looked confused, she rolled her eyes, "The tension between them, idiot. Are you _blind_?"

"So, that means Malfoy and Potter will shag?"

"Hey, Malfoy! Can we watch?"

"Wanna bet whose going to top?"

_And that would be Finnigan's unnecessary two cents, that overly frivolous bastard._ Hermione didn't even bother to wonder why.

"Definitely Malfoy! Potter's too… _virginal_."

"But Malfoy's in Potter's body, so who's going to top now?"

"Ten Sickles for Potter in Malfoy on the top!"

"Eww, Sickles? Ten _Galleons_ for Malfoy to top—"

"Err, g-guys?"

"What, Neville?" Dean turned to Neville from where he stood beside a suspiciously ecstatic looking Seamus, who was already taking notes of the names and money from both houses that seemed to have forgotten the real problem.

"Umm, I-I think Harry fa-fainted."

Silence met his words and all eyes turned to where Harry – in Malfoy's body – had been standing a minute ago and lowered to the sight of the pale blond haired teen now lying on the floor in dead faint.

"Wh—Harry!"

**End's Note :** What do you think? I like sarcastic Hermione. I know this might not seem like her usual self, but this _is_ a comedy story. And, uh yeah, the Solution 069 has a double meaning in case you haven't notice it yet. Yes, this will have a plot, but I need a break from the serious and angsty stories. And yes, they would have sex eventually. Plenty, even. Even though this will mainly be a romantic comedy, but it would also have some other plot. I am thinking of posting something darker in the future. Please give some support! I really appreciate constructive reviews and comments!


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